


Nesting Place

by Destina



Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for grendel</p>
    </blockquote>





	Nesting Place

**Author's Note:**

> Written for grendel

 

 

The screeching cry of the cormorant woke Jack at an ungodly hour, testament to the strangeness of his surroundings. He slapped a hand across his face, and one booted foot hit the ground before he realized he was not at sea, not in his own cabin, with the water beneath and the creak of timbers all around. 

"You sleep as the dead," Stephen observed. "Which is unsurprising, given your propensity toward indulgence in your due ration of spirits." 

Jack cracked one bleary eye in the direction of the voice and found a tent flap fluttering in vague sunshine. Just to the side, Stephen sat smiling at him, a notebook in hand and a fat lizard on his knee. "I'd forgotten we were at anchor," Jack said, more a growl than a sentence. 

"And I thought a captain was to retain control at all times, ready at a moment's notice to jump up and fight for King and country! You're a shameful sight, Captain. Your guard is down; indeed, it is dragging the ground this considerable distance from shore to ship." 

Jack swung his other leg down from the cot. His stomach growled eagerly. "Is there to be no breakfast in this damnable place?" 

"Your able steward will soon bring fresh eggs, stolen from beneath the warm feathers of a female cormorant." 

"That's what the squawking was about?" Jack resisted the urge to moan aloud. It would not do to give fodder to Stephen's burgeoning stock of ammunition. 

"That, and the men disturbing the nests in their liberty." Stephen picked up the lizard by the scruff of its neck and deposited it on the floor as he stood. Jack was momentarily tempted to ask him about it, but a fine instinct for his friend's tendencies hushed him; if he mentioned a lizard, he'd soon know its genus and phylum, and all manner of minutiae with which he had only the barest passing familiarity. 

"Of what possible interest are those nests?" Jack rose from the cot and cracked his spine with a groan. 

"To anyone other than myself and Lord Blakeney? I haven't the slightest idea. Nevertheless, the crew seems singularly determined to run afoul of nature in its proud glory on these islands." Stephen pushed aside the flap and called out, "Mr. Killick! How fares the captain's breakfast?" 

"You won't be able to hear his answer, you know," Jack grumbled. He stood up, looking around for a basin and pitcher, but none were in evidence. "The man mutters. And how the hell do you wash your face in this godforsaken-" 

"The sea beckons, Jack. And now, as your morning sustenance is on its way..." Stephen's smile made up for the absence of familiar comforts. "Lord Blakeney and I shall have a fine day's work cataloging the avian wildlife on the far shore. I trust you will have returned to the ship by the time I've made my way back?" 

"This is liberty, Stephen. I called it so, and I mean to avail myself of it. I'm not bound to my ship." 

"Of course you're not. All the same, I expect you'll have made your way back there." Stephen raised his hat to his head and popped it in place. "Call it intuition." With an eye toward the patch of blue at their backs, Stephen moved 'round and brushed his lips over Jack's, a chaste reminder of intimacies gone before and yet to come. "And soon," he said, "I shall join you there." 

Just past Stephen's shoulder, Killick's sour puss appeared. He glowered into Jack's flushed face and Stephen's happy countenance. "Cap'n's breakfast," he announced, with some irritation. 

"Quite right," Stephen answered. He flicked the brim of his hat Jack's way, along with a wink, and he was off. 

"Blast this sunshine," Jack said fondly, as Killick closed the flap. Some things simply weren't meant to be endured. 

 


End file.
